Tent Problems
by Shh Just Read
Summary: In which there are three tents, five people and a very surprised Peeta. Slash Peeta/Cato  don't like, don't read! Onshot


**Tent Problems  
><strong>_Peeta/Cato Oneshot_

"There are only three tents."

Peeta restrained himself from rolling his eyes at Glimmer's obvious statement. From all the supplies they had found, there were only three tents. Peeta already knew how it would go though: Glimmer and Marvel would share a tent, along with Cato and Clo-

"I get my own." Clove stated, her tone leaving no room for argument.

"Oh, and Marvel and I are so sharing!" Glimmer winked at the boy in question, who shot a grin back at her.

"Guess me and Lover Boy are sharing then." Cato added, looking at Peeta in a way that made the blond feel small and insignificant.

Marvel smirked and said, "Well, I think we should head to bed now."

The others nodded in agreement and headed off to their tents, Peeta trailing behind slightly. They had discussed the possibility of taking turns watching but had decided to set up traps around the tents instead. It was arranged so if anybody got within 20 feet of the tents, they'd fall on trip wire and be trapped by a net. It wasn't fool proof, but it was better than if somebody fell asleep while on guard-duty.

The Careers sauntered into the tents and Peeta hesitantly stepped into his behind Cato. The inside of the tent was simple enough, plain black walls and two brown sleeping bags. Peeta crawled into his sleeping bag and faced away from Cato, intending to go to sleep as soon as possible.

Cato, apparently, thought otherwise, as Peeta felt the older boy's stare burning into the back of his skull. He coughed, hoping to notify Cato that he knew about the staring without using words.

It didn't work, "Are you really in love with that girl, Peeta?"

Peeta blinked in shock; Cato had never called him by his name, always 'Lover Boy'. And why, of all questions to ask, would he ask _that_?

"No, I-" he began, sticking with the story the Careers believed.

"I want the truth." The blond said in an even voice. "There are no cameras in these tents, they think we're asleep. I know you care about her, I want to know the extent of it."

Peeta turned around to face Cato and recoiled slightly when he realized how close their faces were. "I used to." He stated. "Not anymore though. I'd like to be her friend, but I grew out of my crush on her."

"Why?" Cato asked, not letting the subject drop.

Peeta doesn't know why he was honest with Cato when he answered. Maybe it was something in the older boy's tone that, despite the coldness, suggested true curiosity. Maybe it was Peeta's and desire to believe that everybody has a good side in them and that Cato was showing his to Peeta then. No matter the reason, he told the boy that he had no reason to trust the secret that he had never told anybody else…

"I'm gay."

In the close proximity, Peeta saw the corner of Cato's lips lift the slightest bit and his eyes brighten with a tinge of something that Peeta would come to recognize as success.

"Is that so?" He drawled, leaning forward. Peeta tried to lean away, not wanting to know why the other was doing this. "Funnily enough, I am too."

Peeta's eyes widened in shock, not expecting that from the boy. Homosexuality had been a trend in the Capitol years ago, but after a few years and a slight decrease of population, it became passé. Now, it was unpopular and frowned upon by most. It was rarely seen in any of the richer Districts and still uncommon in the others. To think that a tribute from District 2 was gay…

Cato leaned forward a bit more and Peeta's back hit the wall of the tent. He was suddenly aware of the position that they were in: Peeta boxed into a corner with the taller boy practically on top of him, his breath dusting Peeta's face. The younger boy gulped.

"Th-that's nice." He stuttered, not sure what else to say in that situation.

"Mmm, yes it is." Cato's voice was smooth and low, showing no signs of backing down.

"So, uh- what are you doing?" Peeta squeaked as Cato leaned even closer, their noses nearly touching.

"I was watching you in the Training Room." He whispered, offering no response to Peeta's question. "You're a great painter. Cute too."

Peeta was confused. This boy, this tall, muscular boy from District 2 who could probably turn any boy gay, was interested in him? Why?

Cato saw the question in his eyes and continued, "I've always liked the innocent boys; the ones that don't like to fight and believe in the virtue of everything. Sadly, there aren't many like that in my District. But you…"

He reached out and stroked Peeta's cheek, smirking as he didn't pull away. "I like you, Peeta. And since we're probably both going to die in the next week, I say you try to like me too."

Peeta's mouth slacked slightly, hardly believing his ears. He looked into Cato's eyes and saw honesty and lust, the latter of which made him more surprised. He mulled it over in silence and nodded slightly.

Cato's smirk widened to a full blown grin and he leaned forward further, pressing his lips against Peeta's.

Let's just say that they Games didn't end the way President Snow would have liked.


End file.
